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That mine own use invites me to cut down,
oracle.Lips, let sour words go by, and language end: What is amiss, plague and infection mend! Graves only be men's works; and death, their gain! Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign.
[Erit Timon. 1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably Coupled to nature.
2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear peril". 2 Sen.
It requires swift foot. (Exeunt.
The Walls of Athens. Enter two Senators, and a Messenger. 1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files As full as thy report? Mess.
I have spoke the least: Besides, his expedition promises Present approach. 2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not
Timon. Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; Whom, though in general part we were opposid, Yet our old love made a particular force, And made us speak like friends:--this man was riding From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, With letters of entreaty, which imported His fellowship i' the cause against your city, In part for his sake mov'd. Enter Senators from Timon.
Here come our brothers. 3 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust: In, and prepare; Ours is the fall, I fear, our foes the snare. [Exeunt.
The Woods. Timon's Cave, and a tomb-stone seen.
Enter a Soldier, seeking Timon, Sol. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer?- What is this? Timon is dead, who hath out-stretch'd his
span: Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. Dead, sure; and this his grave.What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: Our captain hath in every figure skill; An ag'd interpreter, though young in days : Before proud Athens he's set down by this, Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. [Erit.
Before the Walls of Athens. Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES, and Forces.
Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach.
[A parley sounded, Enter Senators on the Walls. Till now you have gone on, and fill’d the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
As slept within the shadow of your power,
insolence shall break his wind,
Noble, and young,
So did we woo
These walls of ours
fall For private faults in them. 2 Sen.
Nor are they living, Who were the motives that you first went out; Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, Into our city with thy banners spread:
By decimation, and a tithed death,
All have not offended;
What thou wilt,
Set but thy foot
Throw thy glove,
token of thine honour else,
Then there's my glove;